


Sister

by VanillaMostly



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Gen, Headcanon, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 00:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1569308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanillaMostly/pseuds/VanillaMostly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The decision Oberyn made, one he will never stop regretting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sister

 

"Oberyn, you are going back to Sunspear. You are not staying here."

Elia's rage was one to behold. Her coal-black eyes practically smoldered as she stared him down, yet her voice was icy cold, hard as steel.

That was his sister. Oberyn normally would have felt proud, but he was too busy feeling other things right now, such as confused, irritated, and equally outraged.

"You're telling me to _leave you_ in that blasted snake pit, with that mad bastard of a-"

" _Oberyn!"_ This time it was not Elia who hissed his name, it was Ashara.

He quieted, for he saw just as Ashara did Elia struggling to rise from her seat, hand raised for a slap. The threat of the slap he paid little attention to; what subdued him was the sight of his sister drawing in a deep, shaky breath, as she leaned back in her seat, her own rage fading and leaving behind exhaustion.

"I'm sorry, Elia," he whispered, kneeling down at her feet. He took her hand between of both of his, his heart aching at how cold it was, how thin and brittle. "I didn't mean to anger you. But I don't understand... why can't I..."

"You have just proven why you can't." Elia sighed, closing her eyes, and when she opened them her eyes were as Oberyn preferred to see them, soft and full of love, though now they were sad, too. She glanced at Ashara, and Ashara flitted to the door and windows, quick as a bird. By some way of nonverbal communication the two of them only knew, Elia nodded and bent closer to continue, her voice low. "This is a dangerous time, brother. A man as smart as you must see that."

"Exactly why I should _stay with you_ ," he said, fighting to keep his voice just as low. "I can protect you and Rhaenys, and your new child."

Elia placed her other hand automatically on the subtle rise of her stomach; Oberyn doubted she was even conscious of her movement. "I have others to protect me, Oberyn."

"Who? The kingsguard? Your lord _husband_? Who, by the way, insulted you in front of the whole Seven Kingdoms?"

"You're exaggerating a tad," said Elia with a fond smile, as if he was a little boy again and calling anyone who dared win against him and Elia in the water pools a cheater.

Oberyn ignored her, already feeling his rage returning at the mention of the stupid prince. No one was good enough for his sister, much less a Targaryen prince with his pretty head full of dreams and songs. If only other people could see it. "Anyone with proper parts of their brain knows what to do when you win a tourney. You crown your _wife_ , the mother of your _flesh and blood_ , not some little Northern whore."

At this, Elia pushed Oberyn's hands away sharply, surprising him. "You will not call Lyanna Stark a whore, Oberyn," she said, voice cold as ice once more. "She is a lady, and courageous beyond her youth."

"Courageous?" Oberyn stared blankly. When Elia's eyes shifted away, the connection clicked in the back of his mind. "That's why, isn't it?" He glanced behind him, where Ashara still stood guard at the door. From her catlike smile, it was obvious she already knew. "It was _her_?"

He suspected as much when he saw the painted face on the tree of the mystery knight's shield, and even more when Rhaegar had returned with it and not the man. Rhaegar was nothing if a lousy liar.

"You musn't speak of this," cautioned Elia.

"Do you think me that cruel?" Much as he despised the Starks, especially that wolf maid at this moment, he would never wish anyone a death by fire. A mere girl tricking and making a fool out of the king, and his son joining in the mummery to defend her? Knowing Aerys, even a burning might not satisfy him.

"Of course not. I'm grateful, truly, that you are always ready to fight for my honor." Elia took his hand, now, and kissed the back of it. "But this is not the time to do so. We walk a fine line, Oberyn. _Please_. Listen to me. I need you to return to Sunspear, to Mother and Doran. It is for your own safety, and for Dorne's safety." She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his, as they used to when they were children, hiding from Mother. " _Dorne cannot go to war._ "

Elia, Doran, and Mother, they all sounded too alike. Oberyn grounded his teeth, but he knew that they were right. Dorne could not afford a war, or the wrath of an unpredictable king.

_Unless he wasn't king..._

"I'll go, but only if you take this." He reached under his vest and took out a tiny vial, filled with clear liquid, and pressed it into his sister's hand.

"This...?"

He said in a whisper, quieter than a ruffling breeze, "Slip it into his wine, and we will see who burns."

Elia gasped, almost dropping it.

"Keep it."

Her face was pale, but this was his sister, after all, Elia of Dorne, so she nodded and pocketed it in the deep sleeves of her gown.

"You must promise to write, if anything goes wrong," insisted Oberyn. "Use the code of the runes I taught you."

"I know," she said, squeezing his arm. "I've been teaching Ash. She will help me."

Oberyn looked at Lady Ashara, who simply winked at him. "Alright. Just Ash, then, no one else." He narrowed his eyes at Elia. "Definitely not the prince."

"You just can't trust him, can you?" laughed Elia.

"I don't, as a matter of fact," he scowled. If Rhaegar were in this room, Oberyn would have a private word with him, crown prince or not. See if he could still woo maiden knights with his nose matching the color of his eyes. Although that was likely why he wasn't in the room right now. Oberyn could at least revel in that.

"Don't blame him," sighed Elia. "It was my idea that he crown her."

" _Your_ -?"

"She is a pretty girl, isn't she? I've talked to her. She can be quite funny, she doesn't care what she says, not like those silly things at court."

Oberyn raised a brow. "So _that's_ your type. Flat chest and skinny legs?"

Elia shoved him playfully. "I never judge you by your taste in men."

He wished he could stay here forever, exchanging quips with his sister, and pretend that they were back in the Water Gardens and Elia had never married, never left, would never have to go back to the prison called King's Landing. And he would never have to go the separate way, forced to say another goodbye.

"Be safe, Elia."

He could not say enough with those three words.

Elia's gaze told him she understood, however. She wrapped him in a hug, holding him to her bosom as a mother would to a child. Elia had always been physically smaller than him, and many confused Oberyn to be the older sibling, but only Oberyn knew how much he could feel like a boy when he was with her. _Who protects whom, in the end?_

"Sweet Oberyn, dear Oberyn. I will see you again."

Years later, those words would come back to haunt him, gnaw in the fact that her last words to him were a lie. Yet how could he hate her? She was Elia, his sister.

 

**Author's Note:**

> this time I decided to make Elia a not-so-tragic figure. To console myself mostly. >_


End file.
